


Behind the Curtain

by pressdbtwnpages



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-20
Updated: 2007-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere over the rainbow...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Curtain

  
Brendon ran into the bus lounge from the bunks, shooting dirty looks back over his shoulder.

"What happened?" Jon asked, looking up from his laptop.

"Ryan wants to kill me."

"Yeah," Spencer agreed, sauntering into the room. "Because you said mean things about his girlfriend."

"I did not," Brendon protested. "How would you know, Spencer Smith?"

"Because you're loud."

Well, that was probably true, but Brendon couldn't help it. Ryan made him so furious sometimes. He just stood there with that blank expression on his face and made Brendon feel like the only way to get through to him was by yelling.

"So what? There's no reason for Ryan scream at me."

"Brendon," Jon rolled his eyes fondly, "sometimes I don't think you have any brains at all."

"Well, just the one brain, really. But, I do have one."

"Why don't you _use_ it?"

"It was just a little affectionate teasing. That's what friends do! It's not my fault Ryan went all psycho about it."

"Maybe if you didn't call his girlfriend names, Ryan wouldn't get mad at you," Spencer pointed out practically.

"I know, but, I mean you guys really don't think...? She doesn't seem a little..." Brendon wrinkled his nose, "to you?"

Granted Brendon had a blinding personal bias, but, still, surely he couldn't be the only member of the band to feel that Keltie ... lacked charm, to put it more politely than Brendon had bothered to with Ryan.

"She is Ryan's _girlfriend_ ," Spencer told him sternly, settling on to the couch. "She makes him happy."

"If you say so." Brendon shrugged.

A moment later Ryan stormed out from the bunks. "What the fuck is your problem, Brendon?" he demanded.

Brendon held his hands up and took a couple of steps back. "No problem, no problem."

"So you just completely insulted my girlfriend for fun? Because you're bored?" Ryan stepped forward menacingly. Rationally, Brendon knew that a guy with a bandanna tied around his forehead should not be threatening, but, whatever, Ryan had always been fucking scary.

And it wasn't like he'd said those things about Keltie just for something to say, but Brendon didn't think Ryan would consider the fact that Brendon missed him because he was always on the phone with his damn girlfriend to be a particularly good reason.

"I didn't _completely_ insult her," Brendon offered weakly.

"You called her a trashy slut! I'm dating her, what does that make me?"

"Um?" Brendon bit his lip and stared at his feet.

"I can't talk to you right now!" Ryan shouted unnecessarily before stomping back to his bunk.

Brendon fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment. Glancing out the window he noticed the familiar sight of a truck stop. "Hey, we stopped! I'm going to go get a donut or something. Anyone want anything?"

"I'll take a donut too, if they have them," Jon requested.

"No problem. Spencer? You want something?"

"I suppose wanting you to find a place to stay out of trouble is too much to ask?"

Brendon leaned down and hugged Spencer. "I don't think there is such a place. I'll get you a donut!"

He bounded down the bus steps and into the fog-dim morning, humming as Ryan yelled after him.

*

The sky was dark, making the whole world look gray as Brendon ran back to the bus before it started raining. Wind whipped around him and it suddenly occurred to him that they were in Kansas.

"Oh, fuck."

*

Brendon woke up on the bus, which was unusually empty of people. He made his way to the front and pushed open the door.

They sky was clear and the rain had made the air so clean that the world looked almost Technicolor bright.

Brendon glanced around. He didn't remember the parking lot being made of yellow brick, and there certainly hadn't been a pair of female legs rocking some really awesome sneakers squished under the bus.

"Shit. I've got a feeling I'm not in Kansas anymore..."

"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" asked a recognizable voice from behind Brendon.

He turned to see William Beckett in front of him, clad in a resplendent multi-layered pink gown, accessorized with a sparkling wand.

"Bill? I'm not a witch, dude. I'm a dude."

"You must have me confused with someone else, for I am Glinda the Good-"

"I hate this stupid dream," Brendon told Billinda and pinched himself viciously. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

Billinda continued as if Brendon hadn't interrupted. "The Munchkins called me because a new witch has just dropped a bus on the Wicked Witch of the East. And there's the bus, and here you are, and that's all that's left of the Wicked Witch of the East. So. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"

"I've already told you I'm not a witch. I'm a dude. Which might make me a wizard, I guess, but not _The_ Wizard. Obviously." Brendon heard a noise that sounded like wind against dry leaves. "What was that?"

"The Munchkins. They're laughing because I am a boy-witch. I'm Glinda, the Witch of the North."

"No, you're Bill Beckett, lead singer of The Academy Is..., wearing a sparkly pink dress."

The crackly laughter resumed, and the Munchkins began to emerge from where they had hidden.

A little person who strongly resembled Andy Hurley approached him.

"Welcome to Oz. I am the mayor of Munchkinland. Thank you for killing the evil Wicked Witch of the East!"

The other Munchkins cheered and applauded. They vaguely reminded Brendon of fangirls.

"Sorry. Um, just so we're clear, here, Oz? As in 'The Wizard Of -'?"

"We do have a Wizard," not!Andy confirmed. "He can be found in-"

"-Yeah, yeah, Emerald City, I know. Just follow the Yellow Brick Road and keep my eyes out for lions and tigers and bears, oh my," Brendon muttered sarcastically. He clicked his heels together three times, closing his eyes and wishing fervently, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home!"

Brendon opened his eyes. Nothing happened.

"Maybe try those?" Munchkin-Andy pointed under the bus.

Brendon checked out the red sequin-encrusted sneakers. He reached for them and hesitated. After all, they _were_ attached to a corpse.

"You might as well take them," Billinda informed him. "You killed her. They're yours."

"Who is she?" Brendon asked warily as he untied the shoes, fearing the answer would be Greta or Vicky T.

"Keltie, the Wicked Witch of the East. And let me tell you, the Wicked Witch of the West is going to be so _pissed_ at you."

"Jac?" Brendon hazarded a guess. He shuddered, "Audrey?"

"I don't know who those people are," Billinda said, "but the Wicked Witch of the West is worse."

"Much, much worse," Andy confirmed.

"Who, then?"

"We dare not speak his true name, but he goes by Ryan."

"Ryan?" Brendon repeated, confused.

"Ryan," an achingly familiar voice acknowledged from a slight distance. The last time he'd heard that voice it had called after him angrily, "Don't leave the bus, Brendon! You'll make us late!"

Now Ryan was laughing menacingly and dive-bombing Billinda from his broom, black cloak fluttering behind him.

Even green, Ryan was beautiful. His hair looked shiny, his eyes were impossibly deep, his cheekbones were accented to the point of being almost dangerous looking, and, in contrast to his skin, Ryan's lips were brilliantly red.

He turned his attention to Brendon. "I'm here for vengeance! So it was you? You killed her, didn't you?"

"It was an accident!" Brendon insisted. Just because he wasn't exactly _sad_ about Keltie's untimely death, didn't mean he'd landed the bus on her on purpose. It was just hard to be supportive of Ryan's girlfriends given that Brendon had been in love with Ryan for so long.

"Accident, eh? Well, my pretty, I can cause accidents, too..." And yes, Ryan was scary when he was angry. Ryan was especially scary when he was angry and _green_ , but, he called Brendon pretty. He called Brendon _his_ pretty, in fact, and Brendon couldn't quite bring himself to be anything but pleased by that.

"Put on the shoes!" Billinda shrieked as Ryan zoomed in circles around his head, dodging whacks from Bill's wand.

Brendon hesitated. On the one hand, Brendon didn't want to be Ryan's enemy. On the other hand, the shoes really were pretty cool and Ryan _had_ been kind of an asshole earlier.

"Do it!" Billinda demanded, bubbles failing to be an effective defense against Ryan.

Brendon quickly put on the shoes and tied them tight.

As soon as he'd laced them, Ryan's blood-curdling scream of rage filled the air.

"Get lost, before somebody drops a bus on you, too," Billinda told Ryan, calm now that he wasn't being attacked.

"I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!" Ryan threatened.

"What little dog?" Brendon asked.

Ryan blinked, confused. "Um. I... just, nevermind. Whatever."

Brendon caught Ryan's eye for a moment before breaking into a run down the Yellow Brick Road.

He'd always thought Glinda siccing the Wicked Witch on Dorothy was kind of bitchy. It was hardly a fair fight. But Brendon really thought he might enjoy having Ryan chase him through Oz.

*

It didn't take Brendon long to run out of breath. Sure he had a singer's lung capacity, but he also had the athletic prowess of a dork who spent most of his time sitting around learning how to play new instruments with occasional breaks for video games.

He crouched at a fork in the road, hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath.

"Hey. Hey, man, do you think you could maybe get me down?"

Brendon stood up and looked around, confused.

"Jon Walker!" Brendon exclaimed joyfully. With the Bill and Andy and Ryan cameos, he'd hoped to have some friendly faces on his side, but having Jon in Oz was better than he'd hoped for.

Even if he was hanging on a frame at the edge of a cornfield.

"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm just a nameless scarecrow," the scarecrow responded. "Will you get me down?"

No, Brendon was really just going to leave one of his closest friends to hang. He rolled his eyes. "Of course."

It was a lot harder getting Jon down than the movie suggested. As far as Brendon recalled, Dorothy pretty much put down her basket, tugged on The Scarecrow, and that had been that. But Jon was pretty securely attached to the wooden frame with thick wire.

After some tugging and straining, he stepped back and looked at Jon. "I don't really have any ideas here. How 'bout you?"

Jon attempted to shrug.

"Oh, right, you're brainless," Brendon commented, back to working at the wires.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, you know, 'if I only had a brain', 'we're off to see the Wizard', that stuff."

Jon looked at Brendon like he was insane. Brendon had gotten pretty immune to the expression over the years.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You're made of straw. How could you have a brain? Anyway..." Brendon picked up a rock and pounded at Jon's wires until they broke.

Jon fell into Brendon. Straw was somewhat heavier than Brendon anticipated and he and Jon tumbled to the ground under the weight of it.

"You okay?"

"I'm made of straw, remember? I don't feel anything."

"...and by 'okay', I meant 'intact'."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine." Jon staggered to his feet and offered Brendon a hand up.

"Good, let's go then."

"Go? Where?"

"To see the Wizard so I can go home and you can ask for a brain. Or, whatever," Brendon amended hastily.

"Who are you?" Jon asked, dazed.

"Oh. Right. You don't remember me. I'm Brendon."

Jon extended his hand. Brendon shook it. "So we've met before?"

"Yeah. You're Jon. My bass player. Well, not just my bass player. And not just mine, either. But, anyway, we're friends."

"Oh. Okay." Jon considered for a moment. "I've never been to the Emerald City..."

"Great, let's get going. It's a long walk, and I'd like to find Spencer before Ryan finds us."

"Spencer? Ryan?" Jon asked as they began to walk.

"A tin man or a cowardly lion, I'm betting. Or possibly a wizard or Flying Monkey, but I'm pretty sure Spencer's going to be one of our companions."

"And the Ryan who is looking for us?"

"The Wicked Witch of the West. Because the witches are dudes here, for some reason. Possibly because my subconscious is _retarded_."

"The Wicked Witch of the West?" Jon's voice rose to a squeak. "Why?"

"...I kind of killed his girlfriend?" Brendon displayed a sequin-clad foot.

"You took her shoes?" Jon sounded horrified.

"Billinda, er, I mean _Glinda_ told me to!"

"No wonder the Wicked Witch is after you!"

Out of the corner of Brendon's eye he caught a flash of green and a flutter of black. He smiled.

"Are you sure he's not after me just because I'm cute?"

Jon glared at him. "Pretty sure, yeah."

Brendon noticed the apple orchard they were walking past. "Oooh, apples, Jon!"

He stopped to pluck an apple off the tree, only to have his hand sharply slapped away.

Brendon stepped back. "Ow!"

The tree kind of looked like Joe, with it's branches and leaves all over the place in a tree 'fro.

"What do you think you're doing?" the tree, who sounded like Joe, too, asked angrily.

"I've been walking for awhile and I was hungry." Brendon scratched his head. "I don't remember this part of the movie."

He looked at Jon. "I thought I found you, then we walked into a scary forest and found our other companions. No talking trees."

"Well, this tree is talking, so," Jon shrugged.

"Yeah." Brendon turned back to the Joe-tree. "You were saying?"

"Would you like having someone come along and pick something off of you?" The tree, Joe, the tree, asked.

Brendon thought about it. He felt it really depended on who it was and what they were picking, but, in general he figured teenage fans were the closest he was going to come to unwelcome apple-pickers and he wasn't the biggest fan of theirs, so. "I guess not."

"Come on, Brendon. You don't want those apples," Jon told him, tugging at his arm.

"What do you mean he doesn't want those apples? Is there something wrong with my apples?"

"Not at all," Jon assured Joe. The tree. "He just doesn't like little green-"

Tree branches jerked towards Brendon and Jon as if to grab them. Brendon ducked behind Jon.

"-worms!" Jon concluded, pulling Brendon along as they fled from Joe. "Go, go!"

After a few moments Brendon and Jon stopped running, Brendon panting.

"I'll show you how to get apples," Jon offered.

Brendon looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm really pretty over apples, I have to say."

"No, come on, it's easy. You just-" An apple went zinging past Jon. Another hit solidly against Brendon's bicep.

" _Ow_."

Brendon looked around frantically before realizing that Tree!Joe was the one responsible for pelting them with apples. Dodging them was not unlike being onstage at Redding. He hoped he'd stay conscious through this.

After awhile the onslaught let up.

"I guess that did it," Jon noted. He gestured to the ground. "Help yourself."

Brendon crouched and began picking up apples. He didn't have a basket or anything, and he was pretty sure his jeans were too tight to be of much use, but he didn't really want to get hungry on the road. Especially not if getting food involved this much pain.

He reached under a bush for an apple and his fingers brushed something cold and hard. Brendon looked up and then leaped to his feet. He wrapped his arms around the Tin Man, hugging him tight. "Oh, Spencer! Spencer, Spencer, Spencer!"

Spencer remained stiff. Which was about the way he usually reacted to Brendon's hugs, really.

"What did you find?" Jon asked.

"Spencer! I told you we'd find him and he'd come with us and everything would be okay! Ryan can't be mad at _Spencer_!"

Jon poked at the immobile Spencer. "I think he's broken."

Brendon detached himself from Spencer. "Oh. Right. Um, do you see an oil can anywhere?"

They both hunted around Spencer's feet.

"Is this it?" Jon held up a metal canister.

It looked more like a watering can than Brendon thought it should, but.

"Oil can... Oil can..." Spencer's voice sounded rusty and jagged.

"Spencer! You can speak!" Brendon flung his arms around his friend once more.

"Maybe we should oil him up," Jon suggested.

Brendon pulled away from Spencer and raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know you felt that way about Spencer, Jon. But, yeah, okay. So, Spencer, where do you want to be oiled first?"

He couldn't help snickering. He really couldn't.

"My mouth, my mouth!"

Brendon cracked up.

"You heard the man, Jon. He wants it in his mouth."

Jon carefully squirted oil into the hinges on either side of Spencer's mouth.

Spencer tried to speak. "Mm... ...mmm mm..."

Brendon could hardly catch his breath, he was laughing so hard. "I had no idea 'The Wizard of Oz' was so homoerotic!"

Jon glanced over his shoulder at Brendon. "What was that?"

"...I think he likes it." Brendon burst into giggles again.

Ignoring him, Jon continued to oil Spencer while Spencer struggled to speak.

After a brief struggle, Spencer exclaimed, "I can talk again! Oh, oil my arms, please. My elbows."

"Your elbows?" Brendon asked. "That's kinky, man."

Jon turned to stare at him. Spencer just gazed steadily at him. It was something Spencer would do, but, also, Brendon wasn't entirely sure tin people had eyelids.

Instead of explaining homoeroticism to children's book characters, Brendon removed the axe from Spencer's hand and lowered his arm. Spencer moaned.

"Did that hurt?" Brendon asked, worried. Just because the whole immobile tin man situation was kind of hilarious didn't mean he was looking to hurt Spencer. He loved Spencer, and also needed his help pretty badly, what with the whole being trapped in Oz thing.

"No, it feels great. I've been holding that axe up forever."

"How did you get like this?" Jon asked, still carefully oiling Spencer's joints.

"Oh. Well, about a year ago I was chopping down a tree, minding my own business, when suddenly it started to rain."

Jon winced.

"Yeah," Spencer agreed. "Rust can be a bitch."

"But you're all better now. Perfect, even," Brendon pointed out. "So you can come with us to the Emerald City!"

"Oh, can I?" Spencer asked archly, raising one metal eyebrow.

"Come on, have a heart, man. Please?" Brendon couldn't resist the reference.

"Why is it so important that I come?"

"You have to protect us from the Wicked Witch of the West!" Jon blurted.

"And just how am I supposed to do that?"

"You're his best friend. He can't be mad at you, even if you are hanging out with the guy who killed his girlfriend," Brendon pointed out.

"Whoa, hold on there. I know I can be a bit stiff, but I'm hardly evil. What on earth makes you think I'd associate with a bad witch?"

Brendon banged his head against Spencer's solid shoulder. Every thump echoed. "I... hate... this... stupid... dream!"

"Don't do -Hey! Stop that!" Spencer yelled at him. Jon got his arms around Brendon's waist and pulled him back. "If it's that important to you, I'll come along, though I'm not sure I'll be of any use against the Wicked Witch of the West. Besides, I hear the Emerald City's nice this time of year."

Brendon broke free of Jon to hug Spencer yet again. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Spencer patted his back awkwardly. "You're welcome."

Jon shuffled his feet. "We should probably get going. I mean, it's getting kind of late and there is a witch after us."

"Right. Yeah." Spencer released Brendon. "Let's go."

Brendon's companions hurried back to the road and started down the path.

"STOP!" Brendon shouted. The Scarecrow and the Tin Man froze. "I know it's just a stupid dream, and this isn't Dorothy's Oz and everything's all screwed up, but we are doing this part right, even if I mess everything else up."

Brendon stood between Jon and Spencer and linked elbows with them. "We are going to skip, and we are going to sing and if you don't do it right we are coming back to this spot and doing it over again until we get it. Understood?"

Spencer and Jon nodded meekly.

Brendon started off, dragging his friends behind him until they found the rhythm. "We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz!"

Behind them, Ryan's evil laugh sounded, tinged with genuine amusement.

Brendon halted, sending the others flinging forward.

Ryan stood in the branches of a nearby tree. "Forgotten about me, already?"

"Never," Brendon whispered.

"Well, I haven't forgotten about you!"

Brendon stared at his feet, trying to hide a smile. His crush on Ryan was so far past ridiculous.

Ryan tossed a fireball at Jon. "Here, Scarecrow! Want to play ball?"

Jon immediately started smoking as the flames grazed his arm. Brendon and Spencer rushed to help.

"And as for you, Brendon, I wish you luck with the Wizard of Oz," Ryan laughed. "And a happy journey back to Kansas!"

For the first time it occurred to Brendon to wonder about the Wizard. He knew the Wizard would have a hero complex and be a little unethical, but the question was, who would he be? Gabe, maybe? Or... Brent? Brendon shuddered to think.

Still laughing, Ryan mounted his broomstick and flew off into the distance.

Brendon sighed. "I hate when he gets like this, all controlling and power hungry and _mean_. I didn't mean to hurt him, or Keltie. I was having a bad morning! I couldn't find my iPod and he was bugging me about new orchestrations and, okay, I know I shouldn't have said anything, but he makes me so mad sometimes!"

Jon looked at him, confused. "Um, who?"

"Ryan! The witch! I really, _really_ hate this stupid dream."

Jon patted his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. Brendon sighed. "Let's just keep going."

"You want to sing?" Spencer offered as they set off once more.

"That's okay," Brendon told them, watching his feet and studying how his new shoes sparkled in the sun. He wasn't up to joyfully skipping through Oz anymore.

It wasn't long before they reached a forest. The sun had started to go down, but it was already dark in the woods. There were weird sounds and Brendon would swear he kept seeing eyes peering at him. He felt more like Alice in Wonderland than Dorothy at the moment and _why_ couldn't he have a dream where he was a dude? Holden Caulfield or Aladdin or someone. But no, instead he had to be freaking Dorothy of Oz, thankfully minus an annoying yippy dog.

"I really don't like this forest," Brendon said, just for something to say. He wasn't a fan of silence, not when there could be talking. "It's creepy."

"Do you suppose we'll meet any wild animals?" Jon wondered aloud.

"We might," Spencer told him.

"We will," Brendon corrected.

"Animals that eat straw?"

Spencer reassured Jon, "Mostly lions, and tigers, and bears."

"Oh my!" Brendon added involuntarily.

The three of them continued deeper into the woods.

A lion jumped onto the road.

Brendon fought to suppress his grin as the lion stood and faced them, trembling slightly. "Patrick! Hi!"

He embraced his friend.

Behind him, he heard Jon explaining to Spencer, "He keeps doing this. He decides he recognizes creatures in Oz and calls them by name. Like, he thinks I'm Jon and you're Spencer."

"Don't be afraid," Brendon said into Patrick's neck. "We'll protect you. We're going to go see the Wizard."

Patrick pulled away.

"The Wizard?" he asked eagerly. "I haven't seen him in a very long time."

"You know the Wizard?" Spencer asked, awed.

"I used to."

"So come with us!" Brendon encouraged. He wondered who Patrick's friend would turn out to be. Probably not Gabe or Brent. But, maybe. As far as Brendon knew Patrick hadn't seen Brent in a very long time.

"Yeah, come on!" Spencer enthused.

Jon just smiled kindly and offered Patrick his arm.

Brendon linked arms with Jon and Spencer and the four of them continued down the road. Brendon couldn't help humming a familiar tune, and was amused when Jon and Spencer and eventually Patrick joined in. It wasn't long before they were singing and skipping their way to the Emerald City.

Sometimes, Brendon's dreams were awesome.

Between the skipping and the singing, it didn't seem to take very long to reach the poppy fields at the outskirts of the Emerald City.

"What are we waiting for?" Patrick asked. They had all stopped, to admire the view, Brendon supposed.

The four of them began to run through the poppy field in a short cut to the city. Brendon knew it was a bad idea, that they would fall asleep and band things would happen, but he was also pretty sure that he'd get to see Ryan again, and he hadn't seen Ryan in forever.

"Is anyone else sleepy?" He asked, yawning.

"Not really, no," Spencer told him.

"You guys mind? I really need a little bit of a nap."

"You can't sleep in the middle of a field!" Spencer protested, but Brendon was already sprawling out in the grass, using his outstretched arm as a pillow.

"...Just a little nap." He closed his eyes.

*

Brendon woke to something cold on his face. "Errrgh!"

"You're waking up!" Jon observed anxiously. "Good. We were worried!"

"Sorry. I was sleepy."

"Unusual weather," Patrick observed, sitting up next to Brendon in the snow and yawning. The poppy field was covered in snow, though the rest of the land around them was not.

Billinda's doing, Brendon supposed, though he was slightly disappointed that it wasn't pink. Or glitter.

"Let's get out of here," Brendon suggested, stealthily packing a handful of snow into a ball. "We're almost to the Emerald City."

He raised his arm to pelt Spencer with it before remembering about the rust. With the surprise ruined, Brendon abandoned his snowball and began the walk into the city.

A few more minutes of walking brought the quartet to the city gates.

Brendon reached to ring the doorbell and someone Siska-like looked through a little window in the door. "Who rang that bell?"

The group looked around. They were the only ones waiting to get into the Emerald City, so it was with some confusion that they replied, "We did."

"Can't you read?"

"Read what?" Jon asked.

"The notice!" Not-Siska replied, as if it were perfectly obvious.

Brendon and Jon looked around for an announcement, but didn't see any.

"What notice?"

"It's right there on the door," Siska-the-Doorman pointed. "Oh."

The doorman walked away and reappeared with a sign. He attached it to the door and then shut the window he'd been leaning out of.

The sign read "Bell out of order. Please knock."

Brendon knocked at the door.

Siska re-opened the window. "Yeah?"

"We want to see the Wizard," Brendon spoke for the others.

"Nobody's seen the Great Oz!"

Brendon rolled his eyes. _He'd_ seen "the Great Oz" plenty. So had Patrick, evidently. But of course his dumb dream had to make things difficult.

"Please?" Brendon forced himself to sound sincere. He debated batting his eyes at the dude. "The Good Witch of the North sent me."

Siska brightened at the mention of Billinda. "Really?" he asked, excitedly. "Uh, I mean, prove it!"

"He's wearing the ruby sneakers Glinda gave him," Spencer pointed out.

Siska craned his neck and looked down. "Oh, wow. Those things are tight! Come on in!"

The gate to the Emerald City swung open.

Brendon and his companions gaped at the city, shiny and sleek and green.

A cabbie driving a carriage passed them.

"Take you any place in the City!" he offered.

"Butcher?" Brendon wondered quietly. It didn't matter anyway, no one recognized him or each other. Louder he addressed the cabbie, "Will you take us to see the Wizard?"

"The Wizard? The Wizard? I... can't. Well, yes. Of course."

Patrick, Spencer and Jon all climbed up into the carriage. Brendon hopped into the seat next to the Butcher.

"Thank you!" Brendon told Butcher enthusiastically. "What kind of a horse is that? I've never seen anything like it!"

"There's only one of him. He's the Horse of a Different Color, I'm sure you've heard of him."

"Nooo." Evidently it had been kind of awhile since Brendon had seen _The Wizard of Oz_. He kept forgetting things. Like the apple orchard and this. When he got home he'd have to make Ryan put it on and watch with him. There could be popcorn involved. And hopefully snuggling.

"Well, I can't tell you about him now, we're here."

"Here?" Spencer asked. They'd stopped at a nice enough street bustling with people, but it certainly didn't seem like the kind of place a self-styled Wizard would frequent.

"It's just down the lane," the Butcher gestured.

Brendon and the others exited the cab and started down the street.

A few blocks down the lane, Patrick, who had been looking at the sky as he walked, reacted anxiously. "What's that? What's that?"

Brendon looked up and smiled softly. "It's the Witch, he followed us here."

"Can't he take 'no' for an answer?" Spencer grumbled.

As funny as it was to hear Spencer badmouth Ryan, it was also deeply, deeply wrong and bothered Brendon more than he'd expected.

"Surrender or die!" Ryan commanded from above.

Brendon didn't especially like either of those options. Though, actually, he supposed surrendering to Ryan could be a lot of fun under the right circumstances.

"We should hurry if we're going to see the Wizard!" Jon reminded.

The four of them took off running in the direction Butcher had told them.

A guard who looked not unlike The Academy's new guitarist, Chislett, stood guarding an ornate building that could only be the palace.

Jon, Spencer, and Patrick hung back but Brendon walked straight up to him. "We need to see the Wizard, please."

"Nobody can see the Great Oz!"

"Please?" Brendon tried, tentatively.

"Orders are that nobody sees the Wizard! He's in conference with himself about the Witch. And even if he wasn't you wouldn't have been permitted to see him. No one has, not even palace employees."

"Patrick has," Brendon told him. "I mean, um, the Lion."

Patrick looked uncomfortable. He stared at the ground. "Well, not since I was a cub."

"Still!" Brendon insisted.

"Pardon me," Chislett said. "We've gotta change the guards."

Chislett crossed the courtyard, applied a fake mustache and returned to the group. Brendon felt a wave of sympathy for Dorothy having to put up with the nonsenses of Oz. It was time consuming and totally not helping him fix things with Ryan. Although, Dorothy was also an annoying little girl with a stupid dog, so Brendon's sympathy was minimal.

"Now, what do you want?" asked the "new" guard.

"To see the Wizard," Spencer repeated, annoyed.

"Nobody sees the Wizard!"

"But he's Brendon!" Jon protested.

"The Witch's Brendon?" Brendon tried not to smile with pleasure. It was good to be Ryan's, even if Ryan didn't know Brendon was his. "I'll announce you at once!"

Chislett shouldered his sword and walked into the Palace. A few moments later, he returned.

"Go home! The Wizard says go away!"

"Go away?" Spencer repeated, confused and angry.

"Oh," Brendon said, smacking himself lightly on the forehead. He'd forgotten that they made multiple visits to the Wizard. And that they didn't get their rewards until after... ...after Dorothy killed the Wicked Witch of the West. "Oh, _no_."

"Wait, what?" Jon asked. "Did we come to the wrong Wizard or something?"

"There is only one Wizard!" Chislett bellowed.

"And we're going to get to him," Spencer's confidence was as reassuring as ever.

"How?" Jon wondered.

"Would it do any good if I roared?" Patrick offered.

"At who?" Brendon asked.

"I don't know," Patrick shrugged.

"Try it anyway," Jon offered, supportive. "Maybe the Wizard will recognize your voice and want to see us after all."

"Maybe..." Patrick looked doubtful, but he took a big breath and roared a mighty roar that shook the Palace towers.

"You have a beautiful voice," Spencer told him.

Brendon tried not to laugh. Of course Patrick had an awesome voice. He was Patrick.

The gates to the palace began to open.

"It worked?" Jon seemed stunned. So did Patrick.

"Come on!" Brendon was full of enthusiasm.

"Yeah," Spencer agreed. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Jon and Patrick looked at him blankly.

"...Let's just be happy we're in."

"Okay!"

The four of them entered the palace, the hallways an eerie green. Brendon didn't remember it having been quite so scary in the movie. He, Jon, and Spencer kept having to catch Patrick and keep him from running away.

An ominous sound echoed through the hall.

"What was that?" Patrick asked nervously.

"Just our echo," Spencer told him, but he didn't sound as confident as he usually did.

A familiar voice sounded around them. "What was that-that-that? Our echo-echo-echo."

Jon, Spencer, Brendon, and Patrick all grabbed at each other nervously.

"Come on," Spencer said after a moment. "Let's find the Wizard!"

The voice sounded again. "The Wizard-Wizard-izard. The Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz-Oz-Oz-Oz-Oz-Oz!"

The group hurried down the hall towards a set of doors which suddenly opened to the voice booming out, "The Great Wizard of Oz. Come forward!"

Brendon, Spencer, and Jon stepped forward, dragging Patrick with them. The four entered the room and gaped at the metal throne spewing green flame. It was more ornate than the one Brendon vaguely recalled from the movie. But then, his mind was capable of coming up with things old movies couldn't quite manage. Such as, evidently, an all-male version of _The Wizard of Oz_.

"I am Oz, the Great and Powerful! ...Who are you?"

Brendon stepped forward hesitantly. "I'm Brendon. And these are my friends. We came to ask you-"

Smoke began pouring out of the throne.

"Silence!"

Brendon snapped his mouth shut with an audible click.

"The Great and Powerful Oz knows why you have come. Step forward."

Spencer obeyed warily.

"...Tin Man!"

"Yes?" His voice was filled with bravado.

"You dare to come to me for a heart, do you? You clinking, clanking, clattering collection of caliginous-"

"Actually," Spencer interrupted, "mostly I came because Brendon asked me to."

Brendon loved Spencer a lot. He always did, but at that very moment he really, really wanted to give Spencer a hug.

"Quiet!"

Spencer glared, but didn't say anything more.

Jon stepped forward timidly as Spencer scooted back into the group. Brendon put an arm around him, the hug not nearly as satisfying as it was when Spencer wasn't made of metal.

"And you, Scarecrow, have the effrontery to ask for a brain? You billowing bale of bovine fodder!"

"Well, I mean, Brendon told me I wanted a brain. Or needed one. I don't remember, but I think mostly I was just grateful to him and I kinda liked the idea of an adventure so-"

"Enough! ...Uh. And you, ...Lion!"

Spencer and Brendon had to drag Patrick slightly forward before retreating to stand with Jon.

Patrick tried to speak, fainted and fell to the floor.

The others rushed to his side.

"Look what you did!" Brendon accused.

"Silence, whippersnapper! The beneficent Oz has every intention of granting-"

Patrick started to stir and Jon, Brendon, and Spencer bent over him, fussing.

"...your requests!"

"What did he say?" Patrick asked, sounding dazed.

Brendon helped Patrick to his feet.

"But first, you must prove yourselves worthy by performing a very small task."

"What?" Spencer challenged.

"Bring me the broomstick of the Witch of the West."

"But we'll have to kill him to get it!" Jon said, horrified.

Brendon winced. "I was afraid someone would say that."

"Bring me his broomstick, and I'll grant your requests."

All four of them began protesting in various tones of reluctant, annoyed, terrified, and appalled.

"Now, go!"

"But what if he kills us first?" Patrick asked.

"I ... Said... Go!"

Patrick jumped with fright before running out of the room and down the hall. The others followed.

Once they were safely out of the Emerald City, they stopped to regroup.

"So," Brendon began uncomfortably.

"We have to kill the Wicked Witch of The West," Spencer noted matter-of-factly.

"Do we?" Brendon asked, unable to hide the hope coloring his voice. "Are you sure we can't just trick him into giving us his broom?"

"Pretty sure," Jon confirmed.

"How do we even find the Witch?" Patrick wondered. "Maybe we can't. Maybe I should just go back to my forest, and you should go to your woods, and you to your field."

"Where should I go, Patrick?" Brendon asked softly. Being lost was better than having to kill Ryan, but being able to go back to reality would be best of all.

"There's a sign," Spencer pointed a little way down the road. "What does it say?"

"Haunted Forest," Brendon read. "Witch's Castle, one mile. I'd turn back, if I were you!"

His companions looked grim.

"Guess we've found him," Spencer observed.

Reluctantly, the group continued.

The Haunted Forest was even creepier than the forest they had found Patrick in. Brendon hadn't known it was possible to find a creepier forest than that one.

A sudden noise made them all jump.

"'I'd turn back if I were you'," Patrick repeated the sign's advice. None of them stopped.

"We're on enemy ground," Spencer reminded them all a few minutes later. "We should have something to protect ourselves with."

"I'm a lion," Patrick pointed out. "A little... shy, maybe. But I have claws and teeth and everything."

"I'm made of metal, not much is going to get through me." Spencer and Patrick turned towards Brendon and Jon.

Jon shrugged. "I don't feel pain. I mean, fire's not so good, but otherwise, I'm okay."

"I have... a hilarious sense of humor?" Brendon offered weakly. "I've been told my comedic timing is deadly."

"Isn't that a bad thing, from the comedy perspective?" Patrick inquired.

"Yeah. Also he's totally unprotected," Spencer pointed out.

"Well, not _totally_. I do know how this story goes, even if I've been trying and trying to find a way to change it."

"Change it?" Jon asked. "Why?"

"Well, I don't want to kill the Witch. I kinda... like him," Brendon confessed, eyes firmly fixed on his sparkling shoes.

"Like him?" Patrick sounded horrified. "How can you possibly _like_ him?"

"I think he means like-like, Lion," Jon explained.

"Oh, I under- no. I don't. Like-like?"

Spencer sighed. Brendon was disturbingly comforted by the sound.

"Sometimes, when one boy thinks another boy is pretty, he wants to kiss him even if the pretty boy is really, really, really evil," Spencer explained.

"You want to _kiss_ the Witch?"

Brendon fidgeted. "Well, yes? For starters, anyway." And so, so much more.

He was spared more awkward questioning on the subject of a potential relationship with Ryan when one of the apples he'd shoved into his pockets was plucked out and tossed away by an unseen hand.

"Did you see that?" Jon asked.

"Yeah," Spencer confirmed.

"Oh. I was hoping maybe I'd made it up."

"You don't think this forest is actually haunted, right?" Brendon asked hopefully.

"That's ridiculous! There's no such thing as ghosts," Spencer told them all firmly.

"Talking lions, and scarecrows, tin people, _witches_ ," Brendon pointed out. "You think there's a chance that ghosts are make believe?"

Patrick closed his eyes tight. "I believe in ghosts! I do. I do believe in ghosts. I do, I do, I do!"

His mantra seemed to soothe him, and with some gentle coaxing the others persuaded Patrick to continue on.

The reasonable calm that descended over the group was destroyed when Patrick growled. Spencer slapped away an insect on Patrick's nose.

"What's that? What's that? Take it away, take it away, take it away!"

"Hold still," Spencer instructed calmly, removing it.

Brendon jumped as a bug bit his leg.

The four of them resumed walking.

Spencer shouted and Brendon plucked another of the creatures off of his neck.

A bite caused Jon to jump.

"Remember what I said about the last forest and how I hated it?" Brendon asked. "I lied. I take it back. It was a perfectly lovely forest. _This_ forest is awful! It's scary and bite-y and unwelcoming and- "

A piercing shriek interrupted his rant.

"That noise didn't sound like an ordinary bird," Patrick observed nervously.

"No," Brendon agreed warily. He looked up, and the army of Flying Monkeys coming towards them confirmed his worst suspicion.

Brendon realized that the monkeys would get him to Ryan a lot faster, but he remembered them being a lot more humorous in the movie and less _terrifying_. This damn dream just kept sucking more and more.

Patrick, Spencer, and Jon noticed the Flying Monkeys, as well. All of them burst into a run.

It was really an unsurprisingly fruitless jog. The monkeys had them surrounded in no time, and Brendon was in the firm grip of two especially beefy ones moments later.

"Go away now!" Spencer commanded in his most terrifying voice. Brendon cowered at the sound, but it had no effect on the Flying Monkeys.

"Help!" Jon called as monkeys trampled him. "Help!"

Patrick had been cornered and was being hit by the evil, twisted creatures. The one in charge looked suspiciously like Mike Carden.

The monkeys carrying Brendon took flight. It was... kind of cool, actually. Except for the parts where it was terrifying and the monkeys had really terrible breath, flying was awesome. Plus, Brendon was fairly sure they weren't going to let him fall to his death. Ryan wanted him, if not in the way Brendon liked to hope.

The Witch's castle rose out of a rocky cliff like it had been carved of the cliff itself. It was imposing to say the least, and very, very cool.

Brendon suspected that he probably shouldn't be thinking this whole adventure was so awesome. He wondered if it was possible to have Stockholm Syndrome before actually meeting his captor.

The Flying Monkeys landed on a parapet balcony, and shoved Brendon into the tower room where Ryan was waiting.

"What an unexpected pleasure," Ryan greeted him wryly.

Brendon grinned at him unabashedly. In a weird way, Ryan was the most normal thing about Oz, even green. Brendon couldn't be mad about the poppies, or the ghosts, or the bugs, or the monkeys when he was actually in Ryan's presence.

"It's so kind of you to visit me in my loneliness. You know, since you killed my girlfriend and all."

"Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Like, how did you two hook up? Do you just date witches? Well, obviously, because _Jac_ , but like can you only date one of the other three? I mean, I get that you're sad and all, but maybe you can hook up with one of the others. I can see why you might not be into Billin- I mean, Glinda. But what about the Witch of the South?"

"I loathe Gabe with every fiber of my being. More than Glinda. More than you." Ryan answered stonily.

"Well, yeah, I can see how that wouldn't be a match made in heaven," Brendon acknowledged. "Even if you are running around calling him your best friend. So I guess that means Gabe's not the Wizard."

Ryan snorted. "The Wizard? I should hardly think so. Gabe is nothing more than a puppet."

"Right." Brendon had heard Ryan's opinions on the subject of Gabe Saporta many times, if in a decidedly different context.

"Give me those shoes!" Ryan demanded suddenly.

"Um." Brendon was thrown by the request. "I told you, I get that you miss her, for whatever reason. But keeping her shoes? Tracking them down like this? Is kind of deranged."

"Wicked Witch," Ryan pointed out. "Deranged is sort of part of the job description. Now, shoes?"

"I hate to mention it, dude, but I don't really think you'll fit them."

"Magic."

"Oh. Yeah. Of course. Right."

"You didn't really think your feet were the same size as a tiny blond girl, right?"

"Well, I'd hoped not. The possibility that she was a giant-footed freak did cross my mind, though."

Ryan let out a shriek of incoherent rage and reached to untie the sneakers. His hands shook violently.

Clearly, all the yelling Ryan had done before Brendon got whisked off to Oz had an impact on his subconscious. Brendon didn't think he typically thought of Ryan as a screamer.

"You okay, man?" Brendon asked. It would really suck if his trembling hands were a permanent condition. Hard to play lead guitar with shaky hands.

"No! Fool, that I am! I should have remembered, those sneakers will never come off, as long as you're alive."

Brendon blinked.

"You're not seriously going to kill me, are you Ryan? You need me."

"I need the shoes."

"No, you need me and my voice to front your band."

"You're not making any sense. Less than you had been, even. Not that that's a particularly big surprise. You've been more trouble to me than you're worth, but it'll be over soon."

"Over?" Brendon's voice shook slightly.

"What did you think I was going to do? Invite you for brownies?"

Well, no. Brendon's fantasies about invitations from Ryan had run more to making out than making brownies. Either way, he was pretty sure it wasn't going to happen, in this world or the real one.

Before Brendon could come up with a clever comeback, ideally one not involving mentioning making out, Ryan began to cast some sort of spell, mesmerizing fingers flying, lips mouthing indecipherable shapes that looked like poetry. Brendon was such a sucker for this guy.

Spell complete, Ryan abruptly left the room and Brendon wondered about Spencer, Jon, and Patrick. He hoped they were coming to get them. He thought they were. But then, he'd gotten about half of the movie wrong, so far. There really were no guarantees as to how things would turn out.

When he was a kid, Brendon had heard that if you die in a dream, you die in real life. He wasn't especially anxious to test the theory.

Maybe in his version of Oz, the story ended with Dorothy and the Witch having sex in a comfortable bed in a beautiful tower room. He sort of doubted it, though.

Distracted, Brendon paced the tower room, knowing there was no way to escape. He was more worried about how to get out and get the broomstick without killing Ryan than anything else. He couldn't come up with any bright ideas. The thought that he really, really didn't want Ryan to die just kept repeating itself in Brendon's mind.

His angst-ridden pacing was interrupted by Patrick calling, "Brendon, are you in there?"

"Yeah! I'm locked in." Brendon hurried to the door.

The others pounded at the door, but it seemed to have no effect.

"...The door! Open the door! Open the door! Open the door! Open the door!" Patrick insisted.

"Don't push!" Spencer instructed, Jon echoing,

"Stop pushing!"

"I was only trying to help!" Patrick snapped.

"Spencer?" Brendon asked. "Do you have your axe? Can you cut through the door?"

"Good thinking," Spencer acknowledged. "Step back!"

Spencer hacked through the door quickly and Brendon hurried out to his friends.

"Did he hurt you?" Patrick asked, worried.

"I'm fine. I knew you guys would come." Well, he'd hoped. But telling the Cowardly Lion that you'd doubted him seemed like an invitation for trouble.

"Hurry," Jon urged. "We've got no time to lose!"

The four companions ran down the stairs and rushed toward the entrance. Just as they reached it, the huge front doors swung shut.

"Going so soon?" Ryan inquired, looking down from the top of the stairs.

Flying Monkeys converged on them, the one who Brendon was pretty sure was Mike Carden supervising.

Patrick tried to roar.

"Go ahead," Spencer encouraged. "Do something! Roar! Roar!"

"What good will it do?" Patrick wondered.

The monkeys grabbed at them.

"Don't hurt them right away," Ryan instructed.

In the chaos, Brendon had been unable to look away from Ryan, beautiful even in vengeance. His companions had not been so distracted.

"Here we go!" Patrick spoke up as Jon seized Spencer's axe and, with a single swing, chopped through a rope attached to a hanging candelabra.

With nothing holding it in place, the huge chandelier crashed down onto the Flying Monkeys.

Spencer and Patrick grabbed Brendon's arms and hauled him into a dark corner.

"Stop them, you fools!" Ryan bellowed.

He rushed down the stairs yelling orders at his freakish army.

Following Ryan, the surviving Flying Monkeys stormed past where Brendon and his friends were hiding. Once the angry mob had passed, they stepped back into the room.

"It's no use trying the doors again," Jon observed. "Which room is it?"

"Which room is what?" Brendon asked.

Before Jon could reply, the sound of Flying Monkeys coming toward them cut off conversation.

"They're coming back!" Patrick realized.

"Upstairs, quickly!" Jon instructed, pushing at Brendon.

"Go on!" Spencer told him firmly.

He wasn't entirely sure why Spencer and Jon were more concerned about his safety than their own, but he obediently raced away. His companions hurried close behind him, and they heard the arrival of the witch and his army. Brendon's desire to survive only barely outweighed his temptation to stay and hear what Ryan had to say.

Instead, he ran.

It was easy to get lost in the castle's twisting corridors. They all looked the same and Brendon was to busy fleeing for his life to pay attention to pertinent details.

"Where do we go now?" Patrick asked when they found themselves outside on a tower parapet.

"This way! Come on!" Jon lead them along the battlements.

Instead of finding another entrance, Flying Monkeys blocked their paths forwards and backwards. When they did manage to get back inside the castle, it was only to be captured by another battalion of apes.

Moments later, Ryan entered, looking over them appraisingly.

He held his broom up to the torch on wall. Brendon winced.

"Ryan! Don't!" he shouted as the broomstick caught fire.

"How about a little fire, Scarecrow?"

Brendon probably wasn't as worried for Jon as he should be. He was focused on the fact that it looked inevitable that he would have to throw water onto Ryan and kill him.

Ryan thrust the broom at Jon.

As much as it sucked to do what he was going to have to do, Brendon couldn't just sit back and watch Jon go up in flame.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," he apologized under his breath.

He picked up the bucket full of water reluctantly and tossed it on Ryan before averting his eyes. He didn't want to watch his friend disintegrate.

"Um. What was that supposed to accomplish?" Spencer asked.

Brendon opened his eyes warily.

"You got me _wet_!" Ryan sounded livid. Livid, but very much alive and non-melted.

Brendon launched himself at Ryan, and before he realized what he was doing he had kissed Ryan in relief.

Ryan froze and Brendon backed away, afraid to say anything.

Steam emitted from Ryan's sleeves and pant legs. He went pale.

"I'm... melting," he said quietly, voice sounding almost curious.

Much as he wanted to, Brendon found he couldn't look away as Ryan slowly turned to vapor.

When at last it was over and Ryan was dead, Spencer grabbed the broom. "Let's get out of here."

But Brendon couldn't. He knelt in the center of the room, where Ryan had died, and ran his fingers over the black cloak.

"Brendon." Jon placed a straw hand on Brendon's shoulder. "Come on."

He stood reluctantly. There was no point in staying in the castle without Ryan.

While deep down Brendon knew, or was at least fairly confident, that the real Ryan was okay, he didn't feel like anything would ever be okay again.

"I killed Ryan," he said softly.

"We know, it's alright," Spencer told Brendon, helping him to his feet. "You did what you had to."

"It was very brave," Patrick chimed in.

Jon didn't say anything, just hugged Brendon to him comfortingly.

His companions lead Brendon out of the castle and back towards the Emerald City. The Flying Monkeys made no move against them now that their leader was gone.

"I'm sorry," Brendon told Mike Carden and the others. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He didn't remember much about the journey back to the Wizard, only the pervading sense of melancholy.

In direct contrast to his mood, the people of Emerald City were celebrating. It seemed that the news of the death of the Wicked Witch of the West had preceded them.

A singing procession flowed through the crowded street engulfing Spencer, Brendon, Jon, and Patrick.

"You did it!" people cheered, calling Brendon liberator, hero. He missed Ryan.

The crowd they had gotten swept up in accompanied Brendon and his friends to the gates of the palace.

Unlike last time, the gates parted easily, causing Spencer and Brendon to exchange looks of concern. Just because they'd been welcomed back enthusiastically was no reason to get complacent. Ryan wouldn't be.

Brendon had hoped that the walk through the palace to the throne room, and the Wizard himself, would be less daunting this time. It wasn't. It was even more awful than before because of the desperate ache in Brendon's heart.

"Can I believe my eyes?" The Wizard spoke. "You came back?"

"We've done what you told us to," Brendon informed the Wizard bitterly. "We killed Ryan and brought his broomstick back."

"Oh. Um. Super."

"So we'd like you to keep your promise to us," Brendon added.

"Not so fast! Go away and come back tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" Brendon repeated, angry. "I want to go home now."

"You've had plenty of time already," Spencer informed the Wizard.

"Yeah!" Patrick exclaimed.

"Do not arouse the wrath of the Great and Powerful Oz!"

Brendon stumbled, tripping over nothing, and flailed for something to hold onto. He caught himself on a green curtain that immediately started to tear.

"If you were really great and powerful, you'd keep your promises!" Brendon told him.

"Do you presume to criticize the-" The curtain ripped off completely. Brendon fell to the floor. In the space beyond the curtain, the Wizard was revealed to be standing at the controls of the throne apparatus, his hooded back to them. "-Great Oz? You ungrateful creatures!"

Brendon looked at his friends. Their eyes were wide with surprise and fright. Brendon was mostly just curious about who the Wizard was.

"...Oh." The Wizard peered out from behind the curtain.

"Pete?" Brendon asked in disbelief. Then he felt stupid. Of _course_ Pete was the all-powerful man behind the curtain, the person who had the ability to make young men's dreams come true.

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," Pete told them weakly.

Brendon leaped to his feet and moved to hug Pete. Spencer reached out and caught Brendon's wrist.

"Who are you?" Spencer demanded in his frostiest voice.

"The Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz?" he didn't really seem too certain of that fact. It wasn't the first time Brendon had seen Pete cowed by Spencer.

"You are?" Patrick asked, blinking furiously.

"Uh, yes."

"I don't believe you," Patrick told him. "I know you. We played together when we were cubs!"

"I'm afraid it's true. There's no other Wizard except me."

"But you like Ryan," Brendon protested. "Why would you want your friend killed?"

"Because he turned the Lion into a coward who ran away and hid in the forest!" Pete exclaimed. "That lion is my soul mate!"

Patrick gaped at Pete. "I am?"

Brendon tried to hide his smile. That did make sense.

"You're a very bad man," Jon told him.

"I know," Pete looked desperately sad. Brendon hadn't seen him look so contrite since... Brendon couldn't actually think of a time Pete had seemed this sad.

"No," Brendon corrected. "You're a good man. Just maybe not such a good Wizard."

Jon ignored him. "You'd better be good enough to send Brendon home!"

"Please don't be angry with me. It makes me nervous," Pete admitted.

"It makes you nervous?" Jon asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, what about it? Can you help Brendon?"

"Well, I -" Pete shifted uneasily.

Patrick looked up at Pete. The affection in his eyes made Brendon miss Ryan. "Please, Mr. Wizard?"

Pete sighed. He leaned forward and kissed the Lion tenderly.

Even under all of the fur Brendon could see Patrick turn crimson.

"For you, Lion, I'll try."

"What about for Brendon?" Spencer demanded.

"For Brendon too," Pete amended. "I think the only way to get Brendon home is for me to take him there myself."

Brendon frowned. "Are you really planning on taking me back? Or are you going to run away?"

Pete winced. "How did you guess?"

"You admitted you're a pretty bad wizard, remember?" Brendon asked. "I'll make you a deal: You take Patrick, er, the Lion, with you in your balloon, and I'll catch my own ride home. Sound reasonable?"

"Completely."

"Um, balloon?" Patrick asked nervously. "Don't those go very high?"

"Don't worry, buddy," Pete told him, cuddling close. "I'll protect you."

Brendon smiled hard.

Pete bellowed for Chislett.

"Prepare my balloon!" he commanded. Catching a glare from Patrick he added, "Please?"

Chislett bowed low and rushed out of the throne room, returning moments later to take the group to the courtyard. Brendon glossed over the question of how the balloon had been prepared so fast. He was chilling with the Wizard of Oz, logic had flown out the window a long time ago.

Patrick and Pete climbed into the basket of the hot air balloon.

"People of Oz," Pete proclaimed pompously, leaning out, "I, your Wizard, am about to embark upon a hazardous and technically unexplainable journey into the outer stratosphere. And I hereby decree that until what time, if any, that I return, the Scarecrow shall rule in my stead, assisted by the Tin Man. Obey them as you would me! And -"

Jon and Spencer looked stunned by Pete's pronouncement.

Patrick tugged at Pete's arm. "That's enough."

"Well, that's all!"

The balloon started to rise.

Jon, Spencer, and Brendon, along with the citizens of the Emerald City waved.

"Goodbye, folks!" Pete called. Patrick timidly waved from the bottom of the basket.

"Goodbye! Goodbye!" The group called.

"But what about you, Brendon?" Jon asked as the balloon rose higher and higher until it was only a colorful dot. "How are you going to get back without the Wizard's help?"

Brendon put his hands on his hips and bellowed, "GLINDA!"

William Beckett, still resplendent in his gossamer gown glided to the ground.

"Ah, young Brendon, how may I be of assistance?"

"Can you help me get home?"

Billinda frowned. "I think you're the one with the power to send you home. If only there were some kind of spell to activate it. And perhaps some kind of magical power object. Let me think. 'Home is where the heart is'? No. 'People in glass homes shouldn't throw stones'? No..."

Brendon rolled his eyes, "Do I have to do everything myself?"

"I'll see you soon," He told Spencer and Jon before tapping his sparkling shoes together. "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home."

*

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home..."

Someone was stroking Brendon's hair.

"Brendon? Brendon, it's me. Ryan?"

 _Ryan_. Brendon tried to force his eyes open.

"Ryan," he sighed, "it is you."

"Brendon! Shit you scared us!" Ryan leaned forward and kissed Brendon quickly. It was, as a matter of fact, not dissimilar to the deadly kiss Brendon had bestowed on the Witch.

"Mmmph!" Brendon exclaimed in surprise, before raising a hand to cup Ryan's neck and keep him there. There and safe and alive and not green and _kissing him_. Despite the pounding headache, Brendon had every intention of enjoying this.

Ryan was kissing him with a passion Brendon hadn't expected. He'd hoped for it, sure, but the kiss felt determined, desperate. Brendon forced himself not to wonder what it meant.

His eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the feeling of Ryan pressed against him.

"Brendon!" Spencer shouted. "Ryan, what the hell? Get off him, he's passing out again!"

Ryan pulled away.

"'M not." Brendon couldn't help being cranky about the loss of Ryan's warm weight. He tried to tug Ryan back.

"You've been unconscious!" Spencer told him.

Which, yeah, obviously. Brendon was lying on the lounge sofa, Ryan, Jon, and Spencer huddled around him.

"Explains the headache and the stupid-ass dream. Did the tornado get me?"

"Tornado?" Spencer asked.

Jon tried to stifle his snort. "No, spaz. You were running for the bus and you tripped."

"...I tripped? And then got attacked by Hell's Angels?" Brendon asked hopefully. Because, wow, falling over and knocking himself out was so hopelessly uncool.

"You got a pretty bad bump on your head," Ryan told him, sounding shaken. "We were afraid you might leave us for a minute there."

Brendon tugged on Ryan's hand. "I did leave you for a minute. But never again."

"Your dream?" Jon asked.

Brendon rolled his eyes, causing a fiery wave of pain to go shooting through his head. "Oh, ow. I dreamed I was in Oz and you were there, and you were there, and you. Bill was Glinda."

Brendon's bandmates laughed at him.

Brendon let go of Ryan to swat at Jon. "Stop laughing, Scarecrow!"

"Oooh! Who was Spencer?"

"Tin Man."

Spencer grinned. "Who was Ryan? I bet he was Toto. Was he Toto?"

Brendon shook his head and winced. "No Toto in my Oz. He was the Wicked Witch of the West."

"Ouch, Brendon!" Ryan punched him very, very lightly, but he was smiling.

"Yeah, sorry, but, I gotta say, you look good in green."

"Oh, Brendon." Ryan sighed and leaned down to brush his lips against Brendon's.

This time when he closed his eyes, no one yelled at him.


End file.
